


i'd like it if you stayed

by Joana789



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Fluff, Isak's POV, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Moving In Together, Season/Series 04, Translation Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joana789/pseuds/Joana789
Summary: Their new apartment smells like dust, and the window in the living room looks out on the street. Isak doesn’t mind the traffic noise one bit.orIsak and Even, together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Translation into 中文 available [here](http://siriusyanwang.lofter.com/post/3d5ac2_10937451) by [yanwang](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yanwang/pseuds/yanwang)
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> I know I'm a few days late but I just had to hop on that train, too, man. Now, I'm gonna go fling myself into the sun.
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> (I rarely write fluff, but this was an unexpectedly cathartic experience.)

 

Their new apartment smells like dust, and when they speak, a small echo gets trapped between the bare walls.

It’s a little empty in here, Isak thinks, if you ignore all the boxes waiting to get unpacked. They have an old couch, and a table in the kitchen, a couple of chairs, a hard mattress on the bed, a dresser — furniture is fucking expensive, and they are still figuring out how to take care of all this — so that does it for now.

The window in the living room looks out on the street, and Isak doesn’t mind the traffic noise one bit.

”You’ll survive,” Magnus grins at them when they finally finish moving all the stuff — _yeah, seriously, thanks for all the help, Isak_ — and the boys get to look around the apartment at last. ”The microwave works and you have hot water and internet connection, you’re good.”

Mahdi laughs at that, and Jonas smiles brightly, and Isak wants to roll his eyes at first but doesn’t.

He glances at Even instead, who’s looking right back at him, leaning against the bare, white wall, and it was supposed to be a quick glance, but their eyes lock and—and Even’s gaze feels so warm on Isak’s skin he suddenly feels like he’s melting, just a little.

”Yeah,” Isak says, not missing the way Even’s eyes shine with _something_ , and how he’s smiling this small, soft smile, just for him. ”Yeah, we’re good.”

  
———

  
Their first meal in their new apartment is pizza, which Isak has to pay for, because the boys say they deserve a reward for all the carrying and moving and the hard work of the day and Even just snorts and mutters, ”Sounds fair.”

So Isak buys the food, and they open the windows to let some fresh air in because it’s spring, finally, and the sounds of traffic from the streets of the city mix with their laughter and jokes and sneers. Mahdi and Jonas settle a bet on how long Magnus can go without mentioning Vilde in a conversation — Jonas loses — and at some point, hours later, after three more quick bets, a dozen of bad jokes and two new Instagram posts, when it starts getting actually dark outside, Isak stops for just a couple of seconds, looks at his amazing friends and wonderful boyfriend, all crammed up in this small space, and wonders how he could think of this apartment as empty for even a second.

  
———

  
And when the boys leave, saying _see you_  and _good luck_ and _have fun_ , Isak closes the front door behind them, and it’s suddenly quiet.

”That was nice of them,” Even says after a second, and Isak turns around to look at him, then leans against the door.

”Yeah,” he admits, because it really was. Isak didn’t even know he owned so much stuff until he had to put it in boxes and move here, and Even wasn’t much better. He doesn’t know what they’d do without all the help. ”But don’t be too grateful. They already got the pizza.”

He says that mainly because he knows it will make Even laugh, and it does. They both have been laughing and smiling and bickering all day, and Isak still hasn’t gotten tired of it.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it.

”You’re an awful friend, you know,” Even tells him, coming closer until his hands are resting on Isak’s hips and he’s pressing him against the door, just slightly. Isak breathes.

”Yeah, right,” he mutters, rolling his eyes and aiming for nonchalance, but still puts a hand on Even’s neck, the other gripping the front of his t-shirt. The only sounds in the apartment are their voices and when he realizes that, a shiver goes down his spine. ”I’m a great friend. You all love me.”

Even looks at him, still smiling, and something shifts in the air, then, and he says, ”We do,” in a low voice, and kisses him.

It’s their first real kiss in the apartment and it’s worth the name, Isak thinks. Even’s lips are hot on his, and his hands are warm on his skin where he slides them under Isak’s t-shirt after a moment, and it’s a heady feeling, all this. Isak tangles his fingers in Even’s hair, tilts his head just a little, breathes against his mouth. It’s all slow, unhurried, because they have all the time in the world now. Even seems to realize it, too.

”Hello, flatmate,” Isak mutters when they part, presses their foreheads together.

Even answers, ”Hello.” and his eyes are shining.

  
———

  
They make out against the front door for solid ten minutes just because they _can_ , and then, when Isak tugs Even in the general direction of the bedroom, Even says, a little out of breath, ”We still haven’t drunk the wine.”

”Later,” Isak tells him, breathes against his cheek. ”We have time.”

(Then it’s all clean sheets, hushed tones, skin on skin. It’s slow, too, and Even pins Isak’s hips to the bed, presses a kiss against his temple, his cheek, his jaw and lower, sucks on the skin on his neck. Isak tugs at Even’s hair, just a little, and it earns him a groan. He feels dizzy because there’s rush of blood in his ears, and his breathing comes out a little ragged, and his body feels both heavy and light; he catches Even’s mouth in a kiss, and again and again.

”You make me so happy,” Isak hums against his lips, traces the curve of Even’s jaw with his thumb.

In response, gaze intense but eyes bright, Even says, ”I love you,” and then, ”so goddamn much.”)

  
———

  
They do drink the wine later, hair still damp from the shower and sheets a mess.

It’s good. A fancy drink, Isak thinks, looking at his half-full wine glass, and he can almost feel the price of it on his tongue, but it suits the occasion, so maybe Even was right when he said this was what they should celebrate with, after all. It doesn’t taste much like alcohol. Not like what Isak’s used to, anyway.

They drink half of the bottle, and then Even speaks, ”Hey.” Isak makes a sound and when he turns his head to look at him, Even says, ”Let’s buy yellow curtains.”

Isak thinks, _Oh_.

And Isak has never done it before, because there were always other people around — his parents, his friends, Eskild and Linn and Noora — and he felt like he had to _adapt_. To what they expected of him, or to what they saw in him, to how they perceived the image he’d created and was doing his best to maintain. There was never a clean start. A safe place to create, step by step and one part at a time.

 _This is building a place from a scratch_ , he thinks, looking at Even, with his hair mussed and peaceful expression and flushed skin. _It’s about making it yours. Making it suit you._

So he says, ”Yeah, let’s do that,” because the yellow curtains will be the first thing in this place that will be completely, entirely _theirs_. Like an inside joke, except that it’s not a joke and it’s so much more. That’s a heady thought. It makes his chest swell with something he then pinpoints as _happiness_.

Even grins at him, like he’s been doing all day, and Isak wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.

  
———

  
On their first morning, Isak wakes up first but doesn’t get up right after. It’s still pretty early, he can tell, and it’s warm under the covers, so he stays, lets his eyes adjust to the grayish light of the day, watches specks of dust in the sun.

Even breathes next to him, quietly, and Isak looks at him and thinks about himself from a year ago.

A guy with the same name, he thinks, in the same clothes. Isak Valtersen. A guy who slept in a stranger’s basement, trying to put his life back together without his parents in it this time. A guy who got drunk at parties and smoked joints because it made things easier, later, when he was kissing girls and pretending to enjoy it. A guy who was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him, and how we could fix it, possibly. A guy who was lying and lying and lying.

That was him.

And then, his life _now_. Laying in bed on a quiet morning in an apartment he shares with a person he loves — a _boy_ he loves. Their friends, helping and bickering and laughing. The smile Jonas gave him yesterday, in passing, one that said, _I’m proud of you_ , one that made Isak a little proud of himself, too.

And _Even_.

The thing is — Isak has his job, and Even has his, in a way. Isak’s job is to do his homework and to talk to his mom and dad once in a while. It’s to hang out with his friends, to hold Even’s hand and kiss him goodbye before classes, and then to kiss him goodbye for the day, and to remind him that he’s strong when he doesn’t realize it, or doesn’t believe it.

Even’s job is to _be_. Isak hopes it won't change.

Even wakes up slowly, opens his eyes, blinks a couple of times as he adjusts to the light. Isak watches him; takes him in.

”Good morning,” he mutters lazily, and Even's gaze finds his.

”Morning,” Even answers. His voice comes out low.

It’s an early Saturday in a small apartment that is cluttered and mostly unfurnished and feels like _home_.

Isak breathes in and starts the day.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://sanasbakkcush.tumblr.com)
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> (+feedback appreciated)


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